Work Text:
For an inner city thief, December was always damn near perfect. The biting weather was just cold enough to incite a wave of baggy sweatshirts and thick jackets that were ideal to take things out of. Virgil eagerly awaited December the way a child might. However, awaiting Christmas they were always on their best behavior, whereas Virgil was to be on his absolute worst. Virgil had gotten better at pickpocketing since his family’s business began to deplete. The greasy streets of New York bustled with the bodies of citizens rushing to catch a subway or hail a taxi. Virgil pushed his way against the traffic of people, eyeing pockets to see which had the easiest access and the largest bulk. He watched person after person distracted by their phones or their watch or even the concrete scenery looming high above. Virgil internally scoffed. How liberating it must feel to be so goddamn ignorant. Virgil didn’t care, however, that those people took their privilege for granted. No, those were the best kinds. Easy targets.
He pulled his hood over his head as he brushed past each oblivious person, sizing them up. Each bulky winter coat seemed to be accompanied by a shopping bag. Damn Times Square. Damn Christmastime. Virgil scanned the crowd for somebody who was bagless. Preferably someone wealthy and wearing sweatpants so he could snag their wallet and go, but, you know, bagless at the very least. Finally, his eyes landed on a taller man who lacked a bag. His eyes were glued to the screen on his cellphone, and the watch on his wrist told Virgil that he had a cozy job, one to buy him some extras once in a while. He held his wallet in his hand, like he was about to go into a store. Perfect. Smirking, Virgil slammed his shoulder into the other man’s. Upon impact, the taller man slipped on a patch of ice. Not exactly ideal… but, Virgil was in a bind, so he took the wallet off the ground.
The man looked up at Virgil as he began to make his escape. A pair of hazel eyes met Virgil’s. Shit.
“Virgil?” he said.
Shit. Fuck it, play dumb. “So sorry,” Virgil deadpanned. He threw the wallet back in the other’s general direction and booked it. He began to weave his way through the immovable crowd.
“Wait, Virgil-” the voice called. Virgil ignored him, and he began to feel his heart race. God, why? Why him? he asked himself. He pushed through the dense mass of people and silently cursed himself for ever making the decision to move to the city. Virgil’s hood slipped off as the wind whipped him and people shoved against his smaller stature. A sudden tug on his hood yanked him a step or so back, tumbling into the solid torso of his former lover. Virgil turned sheepishly to look at the man.
“Hey! Roman!” Virgil said with false surprise. Roman stared back with a stoic expression. Virgil forced a tiny laugh. “You look great. ”
-
“You tried to rob me,” said Roman, planting a beer on the table in front of Virgil.
“Look, I apologized, so I think we should just wrap this up-” he replied. He began to stand, reaching for the beer.
“Sit down.” Virgil reluctantly obliged, not really having anywhere better to be. He picked at his nails and looked everywhere except Roman’s eyes.
“Virge, I told you- dammit, I told you that I’d help you. I can- I could’ve supported you.” said Roman, desperately. Virgil rolled his eyes.
”You think I want that? A guy hits rock bottom, the last thing he wants is for his wealthy boyfriend to feel sorry for him. No thanks, Ro. I’ll take thievery over your pity any day.” Virgil spit. It was true. A couple is supposed to feel like equals, and if Virgil had to leech off of Roman’s hard earned funds, he’d pitch himself off of a building.
Roman looked offended. “All I want is for you to thrive.”
“But I don’t need you belittling me!” Virgil said, his volume increasing.
“ Belittling you? I swear to God, Virgil-” The two men were standing at that point, yelling over each other.
“I don’t- I can’t be a burden to you!” came Virgil’s voice suddenly cutting through the argument. The words died on Roman’s lips. He placed his hand over Virgil’s, gripping it gently over the coffee table..
“You could never be a burden,” said Roman, softly. “Fuck, when you really... love someone, you’d give up everything before letting them suffer.” Roman’s cheeks burned as the words left his mouth. He rubbed unconscious circles onto Virgil’s knuckles. A loving gesture, one that Virgil had been deprived of ever since he and Roman ‘split.’
“But Virgil, pickpocketing? Really?”
Virgil looked down at his feet, ashamed. His gaze drifted toward the enclasped hands on the table, and he squeezed Roman’s hand.
“Where even were you?” he asked.
“I, uh…” Virgil sighed. “I’ve been with my sister.” Virgil hated to admit that he was crashing with his sister. Letting someone give him charity, taking pity on him. It made him feel tiny in front of Roman.
“I’m sorry. God, for everything. I shouldn’t have- I just up and left- fuck, without a word-” Virgil was rambling, and Roman cut him off with a gentle kiss on his lips. A tiny smile crept onto Virgil’s lips.
“Come back with me,” Roman began. “Please.”
Virgil averted his eyes away from Roman.
“Until you get back on your feet at least. Nothing has to be set in stone for us, hell there doesn’t even have to be an us if that’s not what you want. I just need you to be okay. And preferably not a criminal.”
“How do I know that I won’t mess everything up for you if I stay? I can’t take that chance, you mean too much to me.” Tears began to roll out of Virgil’s eyes, and he wiped them away as soon as the hot liquid touched his skin. Roman gripped Virgil’s shoulder.
“You won’t. And even if you did, I’ll still be there. Nothing can change how I feel about you. Nothing will ever change that.” said Roman.
Virgil was crying by now, and he leaned into Roman, who wrapped his arms tightly around him. Virgil ran his hands over Roman’s back, holding him flush against him. For a few minutes, held each other while Virgil cried softly on his shoulder.
“I love you so much.” whispered Virgil.
Roman ran his hands into Virgil’s soft brown locks.
“I know.”